Your mind is so beautiful,
mine is a funeral.
I sleep among the dead
thoughts never said,
so unforgettable.

Guess I've made my bed
a dark space in my head.
Your content summer
breeze
left me under thunder
and took the ease.
I never plead
for your mercy, because
I can pretend I'm not me,
take the liquor to spill
and remove pain with pills.
I can pretend I'm not me,
if that makes it easy
for you.
I can do many things,
I can see everything,
thinking of anything
that could mean anything,
that something is coming.

Something is coming for me...